~ Gathering the pieces of our lives together under the eyes of the Holy

Category Archives: rest

“I like projects!” declares my granddaughter. But in this past season for me, I had no compelling projects ahead–no big birthdays or anniversaries coming up, no peak events for which I was responsible, no anticipated shifts in my universe for which to get ready. And August, a time in my personal calendar, it was a time to lie fallow.

What happens in the fallow times? The earth rests. My spirit wander without destination. I can observe what is going by, what is coming in, without needing to leap up and engage it. I have learned, however, that the appearance of inactivity in the earth, and in me, does not mean that there is nothing going on. Underneath all kinds of things are being absorbed, processed, re-imagined and integrated. And so it is with me! In lying fallow I have been aware of the changes in the world that keep swirling, some affecting me directly, others seemingly far away, yet in the web of life still touching me. While I felt stuck in amber some days, there still have been words, music, images, sensations that have dropped down into my being, beyond consciousness even, that have continued to shape and nourish me.

The fallow season for me is over–all grand-kids are back in school, the church has its homecoming, the scorching heat has abated somewhat, and the regular gathering of my soul friends resumes. It’s time to assess “projects,” to plan holidays. to reconsider commitments for the year ahead. What I am discovering is that from the fallowness, things are popping up, like the mushroom, unexpected, unplanned, unimagined. New perspectives, new energies, new visions are latent or explicit as the projects of this next season unfold.

I rely on two things from my spiritual journey that sustain me and help me understand this season I have just lived through. One is that in the Providence of the Holy, nothing is wasted. When it looked to me like nothing was going on, the Heart-knower was at work in a subterranean way, creating me energy, imagination and love. Beyond that is my trust that the Holy One never slumbers or sleeps, even in my states of amber or my seasons of lying fallow. For these truth, I am deeply grateful! I am ready to begin my “projects” again!

The gospel of Luke tells us that after all the profound and intense events of the days of Holy Week, those who loved and followed Jesus, “On the sabbath…rested according to the commandments.” I am entering into that rest today, Holy Saturday. I am taking sabbath in my spirit. It’s not as if I don’t know that there are things that need to be done. But I am intending to let my spirit be at rest. Marva Dawn in her important book, Keeping the Sabbath Wholly, identifies four movements of Sabbath that I am observing inwardly today.

Ceasing: This Easter Saturday I am ceasing from anxiety about tomorrow–whether all the connections will be made, whether the food will suit everybody, whether we will get to church early enough to get a seat, whether or not I have remembered to reach out to everyone. I have done or will do all that can be done, and will no longer worry about what’s undone.

Resting: In between the things I still need to do to make life livable, I will rest–short respites of listening to Bach, a brief snooze before company arrives, a quick reading of a chapter of mystery, a time to sit and gaze at the beautiful back yard in bloom. For a brief shining moment here and there, I will rest my body as well as my spirit.

Embracing: I am opening my arms and heart to the beauty and gifts that are offered to me–an unexpected warm e-mail from abroad from an old friend, a top of the morning snuggle with my beloved, a granddaughter who is coming to decorate for tomorrow. All are welcome in my heart today, gifts from the One who gives good gifts continually. I also intend to welcome the gifts I don’t yet know about!

Feasting: The feasting on food will happen tomorrow in the main, but today, a Sabbath, I am feasting on sacred music, the new bloom of roses, the aroma of Black-Bottom cupcakes, a nostalgic recipe from my children’s birthday parties, the softness of my throw rug and the dog’s silky ears, and the taste of the extra chocolate chips that don’t quite make it into the batter. I am also feasting of the awareness that for this day there is a Grace in not having to do anything to make thing all right, not at home, not in the Church, not in the world. Jesus is at rest, out of pain; I can be too. Tomorrow all the energy and power of Easter will compel me forward again to celebrate, to rejoice, and to let that energy become action for change in the world. But today I am observing sabbath.